Page 31 of Love Me Fierce

“Who can resist puppies?” she replies, giving me a pointed glance.

We climb the stairs and I open the door for them. The dogs gallop past us, their claws clicking on the hardwood floor. Mom comes around the corner in her trademark jeans and oversized sweatshirt, her hazel eyes brightening when she sees us.

I give her a quick hug. “Smells amazing in here.”

“I did what I could on short notice,” she replies with a happy sigh.

“I’m sure it’s going to be great, just like always.”

After Sepp hugs Mom, I introduce Vivian and Mateo, but Mom is already grinning like she knows them, which makes sense given that until last year, she was still teaching kindergarten full time at Huckleberry Elementary.

“I remember Mateo.” She gives him a soft smile. “Was Mrs. Spencer your teacher last year?”

Mateo gives her a shy smile. “You’re Mrs. Rumsey!”

“I am, and I’m so happy you’re here.”

“You have a lovely home,” Vivian says as Mom leads us into the kitchen.

“Patched together with duct tape and bubble gum most days, but thank you.”

Mateo gazes down at the dogs still circling. When Libby snuffles his shoe, he giggles again.

“That’s Libby,” Mom says, then points to our Irish Setter with the chocolate chip coloring. “And that’s Chip.”

Mateo cackles. “He’s eating my shoelace.”

While Vivian squats down with him to pet the dogs, I slip past them to the sink and wash my hands.

Sepp heads for the sliding glass door on the other side of the living room. “I’ll go make sure there’s no coyote poop in the sandbox,” he calls out over his shoulder.

From the fridge, I grab the sliced-up watermelon from the middle shelf.

Mom comes next to me. “Logan and Dad should be in soon.” She nods to a pile of folded quilts and towels sitting on the couch in the living room. “I have linens up at the cabin, but I haven’t had a chance to bring these up and make the beds yet.”

I sling my arm across her shoulder and press a kiss to her temple. “I’ll tackle it later.”

She gives me a curious glance. “It’s a shame it took something like this to finally meet her. She’s welcome to stay as long as she needs to.”

Sepp must have told her about the break in.

“You’re the best. Thanks, Ma.”

“Is there a place we can wash up?” Vivian asks from where she and Mateo are still petting the dogs.

Mom points her to the guest bathroom down the hall while I put the watermelon on a platter and grab a stack of paper napkins.

Vivian and Mateo reappear as I’m heading for the big patio door off the living room. “Let’s eat outside.”

The dogs chase after me, making Mateo squeal. I open the patio door and Mateo and the dogs race past.

Outside, a soft wind carries the hint of sage and stirs the branches of the aspens, setting their leaves rattling. I set the watermelon on thebig table and grab a slice. Mateo snatches one then picks up the tennis ball from the corner of the deck and hurries toward the steps, the dogs trotting attentively at his side, though I’m not sure what’s got them more excited—the prospect of snarfing up his watermelon rind, or a game of fetch.

Below us is the big lawn where we played growing up. The little playhouse Dad fixed up when Linden’s daughter Greta came along and the trampoline she and Logan have spent hours enjoying are still there in the corner, shaded by two tall spruces. It’s been a while since anyone’s used the sandbox, but the toy dump trucks, tea set, and sandcastle molds look ready for business.

“You doing okay?” I ask Vivian in a low voice.

“Better, yeah.” She picks up a slide of watermelon and carries it to the railing. “You were right. It’s so peaceful here.”

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